


The Ladder

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: In The Bubble [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, American Football, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Hand Jobs, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As freshmen year begins, Puck and Finn have to navigate the social structure of their new high school. Football helps, as do new friends, but things start really falling into place when Puck accepts a few truths about himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ladder

Finn isn’t in Puck’s first period class, and he isn’t in Puck’s second period class, either, but the chubby-faced kid with the weird clothes is, and Puck sits down across the aisle from him. Puck musters up a tentative smile, which makes the kid give him an alarmed look. 

“Can you wait until after lunch to harass me?” the kid asks. “I’ve already had to change my shirt, and it’s only second period.”

“Huh?” Puck says. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m just saying that spitballs aren’t even novel at this point, so can you not?”

“Spitballs are so sixth grade,” Puck agrees. “Who’s throwing spitballs?” He remembers getting some stuck in his hair, and it makes him run a hand over his mohawk, appreciating that at least nothing’s getting stuck in it. 

“The neanderthals in my first period class,” the kid says, raising his chin and sniffing like that Hermione chick in the the first Harry Potter movie. “I didn’t say they were _creative_ , I just said they were throwing them.”

“Did you call them neanderthals? ‘Cause maybe that’s why,” Puck suggests, even though he has a feeling it’s the weird clothes. 

“I don’t suppose it really matters,” the kid says. “They’ll get bored eventually. They always do.”

Puck shrugs. Maybe, maybe not. He sticks his hand out towards the kid. “Puck.” He has a feeling this kid doesn’t bump fists. The kid looks at Puck’s hand suspiciously for a second before taking it and shaking it lightly.

“Kurt Hummel.” When he withdraws his hand, he looks like he might almost be considering wiping it on his pants leg, but he doesn’t.

“You’re in Finn’s homeroom.”

“Which one is Finn?” Kurt asks. “I have twenty-seven people in my homeroom, not counting myself.”

“You counted ‘em?” Puck asks. “Weird. The tall one, behind you.” 

Kurt narrows his eyes. “How do you know where I sat in my homeroom? Is this some kind of trick?”

“Ummm, ‘cause I watched Finn sit down?” Puck says, giving Kurt a weird look. “And you were already in there.”

“Hmm. I didn’t pay that much attention to him,” Kurt says, but there’s something shifty about the way he says it. 

Puck shrugs and decides to play equally oblivious. “You didn’t try out for football, did you?” He’s pretty sure that first of all, he or Finn one would have remembered Kurt, and two, that Kurt probably thinks all football players are idiots. 

“Do I _look_ like I tried out for football?” Kurt asks him.

“You could be a receiver or something, maybe,” Puck says. 

Kurt’s face pales and he hastily says, “I’m not gay!”

“I’m not either!” Puck says, though as soon as he says it, he knows he responded _way_ too quickly. He should have been confused about why Kurt said it, to begin with. 

“Oh my god!” Kurt says, clamping his hand over his own mouth and staring at Puck. 

“I was talking about football!” Puck hisses. “Not, not sex!”

“You _are_!” Kurt whispers.

“I’m _not_ ,” Puck insists. “Just like you’re not. Right?” 

“If you say so, Cleopatra,” Kurt says, with a shrug. 

Puck glowers at him. “I was being _nice_ to you.”

“Now we have something in common,” Kurt says. “We’re bonding.”

“Great.” Puck sighs. “It’s better than whatever this class is supposed to be, anyway.” The bell had rung, but the teacher is still just sitting at his desk reading. 

Kurt leans across the aisle, asking quietly, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Puck groans and quietly bangs his forehead on his desk. “Do _you_?” he shoots back. 

“Of course not. This is Lima,” Kurt says. “I thought you might have come from somewhere else, because of your hair.”

“My hair is badass,” Puck insists. “Don’t diss the mohawk.” 

“I’m not. It’s just a bold choice for Lima,” Kurt says. “And you didn’t say no! Does he live in your old town? What’s he like?” He props his chin up on one hand, speaking rapidly, giving Puck an up-and-down look. “I guess you’re the butch one.”

“Oh, for—” Puck stops and shakes his head. “I didn’t move here from anywhere else,” he finally says. “Just plain old Lima.”

If anything, that just makes Kurt more excited. “Does he go to school here?”

Puck stares at Kurt for a few moments, trying to figure out what to say. He could try to deny the boyfriend-thing, but he’s pretty sure Kurt wouldn’t buy it, even if technically he and Finn never said it or anything or really went on a date. Puck’s pretty sure Ray’s doesn’t count as a date and that Finn’s at least a little mad on top of the sad, anyway. “Aren’t, um. Not supposed to out people?” he finally says, because he’s pretty sure one of those news stories over the summer mentioned that. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Kurt says. “Who would I tell? My slew of gay friends? My imaginary boyfriend?”

Puck rolls his eyes. “If you guess, I’ll tell you if you’re right,” he finally says. “Okay?”

“He’s a freshman, too?” Kurt asks. 

“I’m not being paid for sex or conned by an older man,” Puck agrees, remembering what Finn’s doctor had asked. 

“Good. That rules out the creepy music teacher,” Kurt says, shuddering. “I was going to sign up for a chorus elective, but he kept stroking the sleeve of my Prada jacket, so instead I’m taking Intro to Art.”

Puck’s not sure what a Prada jacket is—maybe some weird kind of sleeve?—but he nods sympathetically. “I play guitar,” he offers. 

“I play the piano,” Kurt says. “Does your boyfriend play an instrument?”

“Keep trying to teach him guitar,” Puck says, grinning a little. “But he plays the drums. Sings pretty good, too.”

“Hmm. A drummer.” That piece of information seems to confuse Kurt. “Tell me more about him.”

“Um.” Puck chews on his lip, trying to think, because ‘he likes being bitten’ isn’t the kind of thing he wants to share with the class. “He’s an only child?” Puck offers. “Both of our moms are single.”

“How long have you been together?” Kurt asks. At the front of the classroom, the teacher seems to have actually begun doing some teaching, but he also doesn’t seem to care that nobody in the class is paying him any attention. 

Puck frowns, because if they didn’t have any kind of conversation, he’s not sure how anyone’s supposed to be counting how long or anything. “Couple of months,” he finally says. He looks over at Kurt curiously. “Your parents know?”

“It’s just me and my dad, and that’s a definite _no_ ,” Kurt says. “Do your mothers know?”

Puck shakes his head. “Nah. Ma probably wouldn’t care, but—” he pauses, thinking. “Not sure _I_ want to say it,” he finally says. “And Julie, my sister, she’s only six.” 

“So, is it likely I’ve encountered him already today?” Kurt asks. “Or do I have to look for him the rest of the day?”

“He’s not in my homeroom,” Puck says slowly. “So I don’t know his schedule. Or yours, for that matter.” He frowns again and reaches into his pocket. “Or mine.”

“Ah. Is he cute?” Puck raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly, as he unfolds his schedule. “That’s a yes, I take it? Cute like ‘oh what a cute bichon puppy’ or cute like Ryan Gosling?”

“What’s a bitch-on puppy, and who’s Ryan Gosling?” Puck asks. 

Kurt sighs. “Oh dear. I see we have a lot of work to do!”

“He’s cute like… Sam Winchester,” Puck settles on. 

“Hmm,” Kurt frowns. “I don’t know who that is.” He pulls an iPhone out of his pocket and types something into it. “Oh, he _is_ cute. Tall, too.” He looks up at Puck suddenly, mouth open.

“You’ve got an iPhone?” Puck says. “Damn!” 

Kurt waves the question off. “I know who your boyfriend is!” he hisses. “Tall, and you know where he sat in homeroom today, probably because you walked him to class.”

Puck eyes Kurt suspiciously. “It was on the way to my homeroom.”

“But you’re not denying it,” Kurt says. “Oh, he _is_ cute,” he adds, in the same tone he used to describe Sam Winchester. “I never would have guessed. Well, probably I would have eventually, but he struck me as the strong, silent type this morning.”

Puck shrugs uncomfortably. “He doesn’t get it.” Then he looks at Kurt and rolls his eyes. “You don’t either, though, do you? I mean, you can’t wear that.” 

“What?” Kurt asks, looking down at his clothes. “I look fantastic!”

“You’re a freshman!” Puck shakes his head. “You gotta work up to that. Junior year, maybe. Senior year.” 

“I’m not going to let this school crush my self-expression before I’ve even had a chance to wear my fall wardrobe,” Kurt sniffs. 

“Yeah, but which one of us is still wearing the same shirt we had on in homeroom?” Puck says. “School’s like that whole survival of the fittest thing.”

“Well, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to think so,” Kurt says. “I wonder how long _that_ will last.”

Puck glowers at Kurt for a long time. “Finn can’t handle spitballs every day,” Puck finally says. “I’m not going to let him do something stupid that makes things harder on him.”

“Nice he has you to make that decision for him,” Kurt answers, a little too lightly. 

“You don’t know him,” Puck says flatly, “and you don’t really know me.” 

“That’s true, but I do know that if _my_ boyfriend thought I was stupid for, what? It can’t be how he dresses. I think his ensemble was less coordinated than yours.”

Puck rolls his eyes. “I didn’t say _he_ was stupid, and anyway, you’re the one blurting out that you aren’t gay all over the place.”

“I’m not the only one,” Kurt retorts. “You aren’t exactly waving a rainbow flag.”

“Maybe I’m not. Maybe I just have a boyfriend,” Puck says, even though he knows it sounds kind of weak. 

“Ah, yes, that new trend of _straight_ boys having boyfriends. How could I forget about that? I’m sure it was all over the last issue of _Cosmopolitan_ ,” Kurt says, pursing his lips. “But, fine. You’re not gay. You just have a tall, gorgeous boyfriend that you think is going to do something stupid like tell people you’re his boyfriend. My mistake.”

“You know, _I_ kind of want to throw spitballs at you right now,” Puck says. “And isn’t Cosmo one of those with all the boobs?” he asks, wrinkling his nose. 

“So very straight,” Kurt mutters to himself, finally opening his text book for the class and not turning back towards Puck until the bell rings. When it rings, he holds his hand out in Puck’s direction. “I need your schedule.”

Puck hands it to him warily. “Why? I don’t think you know where my next class is, either.”

“We have fourth period history together,” Kurt says. “Plus lunch. I’ll see you then.”

“Sure,” Puck says, reclaiming his schedule and wandering the halls for his next class. It ends up being a study hall full of people he doesn’t recognize, and he doesn’t have any studying to do or anything else to do, so he takes a nap until the bell rings, then heads towards his fourth period class, half-dreading it. 

Finn’s already sitting in it, though, and Puck heads towards him. Finn looks extremely excited to see Puck for a few seconds, before his face kind of crumples, his shoulders drooping as he slumps in his seat a little. 

“Hey,” he says. 

“Hey, dork,” Puck says, dropping down into the seat beside him. “Let me see your schedule.”

Finn hands it over without a word, still looking at Puck like Puck either kicked his puppy or that he _is_ the puppy Puck kicked. Puck compares them for a few minutes, then hands them both to Finn. 

“We’ve got lunch and sixth period together at least,” Puck says. “And practice after school."

"Okay," Finn says softly.

“Ma has to take Julie to some kind of open house tomorrow night,” Puck says more quietly. “If you want to come over.”

"If you want me to," Finn says.

Before Puck can say anything, Kurt comes breezing into the classroom, taking the seat immediately behind Finn.

"Why, _hello_!" Kurt says, in a bright, almost flirty voice. "You're in my homeroom. Also, my first period Spanish class, which I am almost certain I'll be dropping next semester."

Finn's face can't seem to decide if it's staying kicked-puppy in Puck's direction or transitioning to 'what the fuck', in Kurt's, so he just ends up looking like he might cry and is confused about it. "Hi?" he says.

“That’s Kurt,” Puck interjects. “He’s in my second period…” he trails off. “Whatever it was.” 

"Math," Kurt says. " _And_ I believe we have more than just a few classes in common."

"Lunch?" Finn guesses, looking at Puck like Puck might explain it better, then seeming to remember he's sad and frowning again.

“It’s not football,” Puck says, staring at Kurt for a moment. “That’s for sure.”

"Your boyfriend is funny," Kurt says to Finn, dropping his voice to a dramatic low whisper on 'boyfriend'.

"My, uh?" Finn look at Puck, wide-eyed and anxious, white-knuckling the seat back. "That's not… I didn't ever—”

“Ask Kurt if he’s a receiver,” Puck says. “See what he blurts out.”

"I was taken aback. It was a one time mistake!" Kurt protests.

"I don't understand," Finn says quietly.

“He’s… you know.” Puck shrugs and lowers his voice. “And he thinks you’re cute and that I’m horrible.”

"Huh?" Finn says.

"It's good he's so cute and so tall," Kurt says, shaking his head.

“Hey, wait a second.” Puck turns and frowns at Kurt. “That’s a little hypocritical.”

"I just said he was cute and tall," Kurt says.

"Puck, is he…" Finn's voice sort of fades out as he glances around the classroom.

“Trying to flirt with you?” Puck whispers. “Yes.”

"Oh." Finn blinks at Puck, looks at Kurt in confusion, and then looks back at Puck. "You don't like it."

“I’m refraining from violence,” Puck insists. 

"Why?" Finn asks. "I didn't do anything. I just sat in my classes like everybody else. I didn't even talk about you."

“I meant with him,” Puck says, nodding in Kurt’s direction. “See? I’m being nice. It was easier before he started flirting with you though.”

"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" Kurt asks. "Finn? That's your name, right?" Finn nods. "Can you think of any reason why I shouldn't flirt with you in this class?"

Finn looks at Puck with a desperate, helpless expression in his eyes. "'Cause I'm… not, you know?"

“Is it lunch yet?” Puck asks plaintively.

"Is he or is he not your boyfriend?" Kurt demands at just above a whisper as he turns fiercely on Puck. "He doesn't seem to think he is."

“Some people don’t wear funny-sleeved jackets!” Puck hisses back. “Some of us just want to not be on the bottom rung of the ladder.” 

"And some of us either have boyfriends or were just pretending to have boyfriends to be _boy hogs_!"

“I didn’t say I had more than one!” Puck says, then glares at a girl two rows over who looks too interested in their conversation. 

Finn gets a funny look on his face. "Am I the one you do have?" he asks, not looking Puck right in the eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” Puck says, still alternating between glaring at the girl and Kurt. 

"Really?" Finn asks, his whole face lighting up.

Puck rolls his eyes a little. “Yes, dork.”

"Just, this morning you—"

“We just… we have to be careful.” He points at Kurt. “Tell him what you told me about your shirt,” he says.

"Just a few neanderthals," Kurt relies dismissively. "I doubt you'd have the same problem."

“Tell him,” Puck insists.

"Spitballs," Kurt says, grimacing.

"Oh," Finn says. "So we just have to pretend we're, you know." He frowns. "Forever?"

Puck sighs. “I don’t know. Just… like last week? Not today or tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Finn says again.

“Better be careful,” Kurt warns Puck. “While you’re busy playing straight, somebody else might come steal him away from you.”

"I'm not _playing_ anything," Puck insists. Just because Puck doesn't want a ticker-tape rainbow parade doesn't mean he's playing, and he'd really like to get rid of Kurt's snooty attitude about it. "And yeah, you kinda made your intentions clear."

"I’m really confused,” Finn confesses. 

"He thinks I'm not good enough for you, and you should be _his_ boyfriend," Puck says, glaring at Kurt again. "Guess I learned my lesson about trying to be friendly to people," he adds, making sure he's loud enough for Kurt to hear.

“But you are,” Finn says, still quietly and almost sounding mystified by the whole production. “And I’m _your_ boyfriend.”

"Tell him," Puck says, swinging his head to glare at the overly-interested girl again.

“I’m _his_ boyfriend,” Finn tells Kurt. Puck smirks triumphantly at Kurt, knowing he possibly looks somewhat smug.

“I guess we’ll just have to see how that works,” Kurt says, shrugging. “You’re awfully big to keep in a closet.”

Puck huffs again. “I liked you better when you were talking about ancient Egypt,” he says to Kurt, and then the bell rings. “Lunch already?”

“That was fast,” Finn says. He starts to stand, giving Puck a sort of sad sideways look. “I can at least sit with you at lunch, though, right?”

“Duh, dork,” Puck says, rolling his eyes. He glances at Kurt and then back at Finn, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 

“If he sits by himself, he’ll just get spitballed again,” Finn says. “Besides, I kinda like him. He made you say I’m your boyfriend.”

“Dork,” Puck says, nudging Finn with his shoulder. “Fine. C’mon, Kurt,” he says. “You can sit with us. Unless you wanted to fill that chick over there in on our conversation, because she was really curious.”

“Safety in numbers?” Kurt offers, glancing at the girl. 

“No spitballs, anyway,” Puck agrees.

“You can bring her, too,” Finn says. “That way we can find out what she heard!”

Puck heads out of the classroom, following the smell of cafeteria food more than any real sense of where he’s going, Finn beside him and Kurt and the girl behind them. Puck heads to the lunch line without thinking about it, Finn and the girl following, but Kurt walks off to a table. 

“Huh.” Puck shrugs. “Guess he brings his lunch.”

“Maybe he has allergies. Remember that kid who had the peanut allergies, and the one time he ate that peanut butter cookie and his whole head swelled up?” Finn says. “That was a real thing that happened, right?”

“Yeah, what was that? Fifth grade?” Puck glances behind Finn at the girl and nods at her, trying to look vaguely friendly. She nods back, looking amused. 

“Maybe Kurt is allergic to things,” Finn says. “We should ask him, so we don’t accidentally touch him with food he’s allergic to.”

“I think he thinks he’s allergic to our clothes,” Puck says, heading through the line. “Do you know what a Prada is?”

“Is that a kind of a nut? Maybe he’s allergic to those,” Finn says. 

“Prada?” the girl says. “Prada is a brand of clothes.” She shakes her head, apparently at their cluelessness. 

“Do they make jackets?” Puck asks. “‘Cause that’s what he was talking about.” 

“I’ve never heard of Prada clothes before. I don’t think that’s a kind of clothes,” Finn says, shaking his head. 

“They don’t sell them in Lima,” the girl informs Finn, and the three of them walk over to where Kurt is sitting. “I’m Mercedes,” she adds. “I figured out that you’re Kurt. What about you two?”

“Puck,” Puck says, “and this is Finn.”

“Hey,” Finn says, waving.

“Can I just say that I _love_ those shoes?” Kurt says to Mercedes. “Pulls the whole look together.”

“Thank you!” Mercedes beams at Kurt, and Puck wants to tell her that she’s barking up the wrong tree or whatever, but he just shakes his head instead. 

“Are you allergic?” he asks Kurt. 

“To what, exactly?” Kurt replies, giving Puck a strange look.

“Nuts,” Finn says, with the kind of straight-faced-but-still-messing-with-you expression that only Finn could really pull off. Puck snorts, taking a big bite of his taco salad. Kurt looks on in mild disgust, shuddering slightly.

“I can’t believe you’d put that in your mouth,” Kurt says, ignoring the allergy question entirely.

“Yeah?” Puck says, raising his eyebrow. “You know where else I can get lunch for the same price?” 

“That tortilla bowl alone has enough saturated fat to clog your arteries,” Kurt replies. “And it’s not doing your skin any favors, either.”

Finn shovels a few bites of taco salad into his mouth and says, mouth still full, “I think it’s good.”

“The food or my skin?” Puck asks under his breath. Finn just grins at him and continues shoveling.

“Ugh. You two are such _boys_!” Kurt says. 

“Thought you liked boys,” Puck says mildly. “Or are you back to misunderstanding football again?”

“I like boys,” Finn says through his mouthful of taco salad.

“Are _all_ of you gay?” Mercedes asks, looking at them sort of skeptically. 

“No!” Kurt insists in a really high-pitched squawky voice.

“Nope,” Puck says, over-accenting the ‘p’. 

“Yeah,” Finn says cheerfully, then stops chewing and looks at Puck. “I mean, uh. Nope. Just like Puck said.”

“I wasn’t asking for any announcements at the first football game or anything,” Mercedes says. “I’ll just take all of that as a yes.”

“Mine was actually a yeah,” Finn says. “Yeah is like yes, but it’s, you know, more casual.”

Kurt stares at Finn, then shakes his head. “It’s good you’re so tall and attractive.”

Puck glares at Kurt again, then looks at Mercedes. “I’m pretty sure Kurt won’t be at _any_ football games.” He pauses. “Were you in one of my classes? I mean, not whatever it was we had last period.”

“First period,” Mercedes says. “I noticed the haircut.”

“It’s an awesome haircut,” Puck insists. 

“I did it!” Finn says. 

“Yep.” Puck grins at Finn. “Totally looks professional and everything.” 

“Professional badass,” Finn agrees. 

“Closet only works if you close the door, boys,” Kurt says. 

Puck flips him off without looking at him. “Still liked you better when you were discussing weird sleeves and music.” 

“You’ll like me again once you get to know me. I’m a good person to know,” Kurt says. “You may not realize it now, but someday.”

“Did any of you actually pay attention in class? And why did it look like you were fighting?” Mercedes asks. 

“I took a note!” Finn says proudly.

“You did?” Puck asks. “I don’t even know what class that was supposed to be.”

Finn pulls out a notebook and opens to the first page. His proud face vanishes. “Oh. My note just says ‘Puck is my boyfriend’ so I don’t think that counts. Sorry.”

“Dork,” Puck says. “And we were fighting because Kurt wants him.” He points at Finn. 

“Kurt wants Finn, but Finn’s your boyfriend?” Mercedes repeats, looking at Kurt. 

“I don’t think Puck knows what to do with a boyfriend,” Kurt says, leaning in to stage-whisper to Mercedes in a way that seems intentionally conspiratorial. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do,” Puck says with a smirk. “A lot more than you.” 

“Blow jobs. Hand jobs,” Finn muses, staring off into the distance. “Probably some other kind of jobs I can’t think of right now.”

Mercedes’ eyes widen, and she giggles a little nervously. Kurt’s face turns red and he looks quickly down at his container of lunch. “Ooh, another blusher,” Puck says, still smirking. 

“I’m a blusher,” Finn informs Mercedes and Kurt.

“There is no way you’re going to be able to keep this boy in the closet,” Kurt says, arching one eyebrow. 

“And you’re volunteering to lead his coming-out ball, aren’t you?” Puck says, a little sharper than he means to. 

“It’s okay,” Finn says. “Let’s just eat our lunch. Nobody needs to get mad about stuff in a closet.”

“What electives are you taking?” Mercedes asks, clearly trying to change the subject. 

Puck pulls his schedule out again and shrugs. “Something called ‘fam & con sci’, apparently.”

“I’m in woodshop,” Finn says. “I’m going to make birdhouses.”

“I’m taking art. What is that class you’re taking, Puck?” Mercedes asks, and Puck shrugs. 

“No idea. I have it next, so I guess I’ll find out.”

“Home ec,” Kurt says. “It means home ec.”

“Like cooking? Oh, okay.” Puck shrugs. “I can do that.”

“You can make my cake for my birthday,” Finn says. “That would be awesome.”

“Sure,” Puck agrees as the bell rings. He stops talking in favor of eating the rest of his food as quickly as possible, then finishing his drink. Finn shoves something like half the taco bowl into his mouth at once, grinning at Kurt with stuffed-full cheeks.

“Charming,” Kurt says, making eye contact with Mercedes. They both shake their heads. Puck smirks; Finn’s not even half as dumb as Kurt seems to think. Puck hits his chest and burps loudly, grinning at Finn when he does. Finn laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, while Mercedes and Kurt both recoil and grimace.

Puck laughs and picks up his tray, waving over his shoulder at Kurt and Mercedes. “Later.” He turns to Finn. “And I’ll see you sixth period.”

“You should meet me in the bathroom before sixth,” Finn says. “It’s been, like, twenty-something hours!”

“Okay,” Puck agrees, grinning, and then he has to go find his elective class, which does turn out to be mostly about cooking, just like Kurt said. Puck figures it’s good to have at least one class he’ll do okay in, and then he goes to find the bathroom closest to their sixth period class. 

He doesn’t see Finn at first, so he waits until two upperclassmen leave, then turns towards the stalls. “Finn?”

“In here,” Finn whispers from the handicap stall. The door opens and Finn’s hand beckons Puck in.

Puck grins and locks the door behind him, then leans on it. “Hey.” 

“Hey!” Finn pulls Puck towards him by the front of his shirt, kissing him hard. Puck grabs Finn’s shoulders as they kiss, and it feels weird, touching fabric instead of skin. After a few minutes, Finn pulls away, his hand pressing against Puck’s dick through his jeans.

“You want me to suck your dick before class?” Finn asks. “I can do it really fast.”

“Oh, fuck,” Puck says, because that sounds like a really great idea and a potentially dangerous one at the same time. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Awesome,” Finn says. He pulls on the front of Puck’s jeans and frowns. “I hate jeans.”

“Yeah, I kind of hate shirts, too,” Puck agrees, reaching down and unfastening his jeans. Finn pulls Puck’s dick out of his jeans, mouth immediately around it. He moves his hand and mouth together, and Puck lets out a little whimper as he hears the door squeak open. Finn either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he keeps sucking Puck’s dick, running his tongue over and over the head. Puck doesn’t really care about people coming in, either, but he does shove the collar of his t-shirt in his mouth, muffling whatever noises he makes. He tugs on Finn’s hair, his hips twitching, and leans his head back against the door. 

Finn is right; he does it really quick, and it doesn’t take Puck long at all to come, body shuddering and dick pushing deep into Finn’s mouth. Finn swallows, lapping at Puck’s dick a few more times before pulling back and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good?” Finn asks.

“So good,” Puck agrees, leaning down and kissing Finn again. “I’ll take care of you later?” Puck says, pressing his hand against Finn’s dick. Finn lets out a little whine, but he smiles at Puck.

“I know you will,” Finn says. “I might need to stay in here for a minute, though.”

“Think about the football coach in his nasty-ass shorts,” Puck suggests, unlocking the door. 

“Dude, _gross_!”

“I know!” Puck grabs Finn’s hand and pulls him towards the door, and he starts to drop it as he realizes that the bell must’ve rung, since the hall is empty. “Oops.” He squeezes Finn’s hand once and then does release it as they try to slip into their sixth period class unnoticed. The teacher frowns at them, but they take two seats in the back row, and Puck realizes they must be in some kind of computer class, since everyone’s in front of a computer. The teacher is talking about some kind of protocols, and Puck tunes him out. 

“Hey, Puck!” Finn whispers. “Look! I found something.”

“What?” Puck says, leaning towards Finn while still looking at the teacher, who seems suspicious of Puck for some reason. 

“Look!” Finn points at his computer screen. “It has instructions!”

“For…” Puck trails off, looking at the open window. “Oh. _Oh._.” Finn’s Googled something about anal sex, one way or another, and literally found directions. “Oh.” Puck reaches down and adjusts himself, thinking it’s probably good that Finn just blew him, or he’d really be in trouble. 

“I don’t think we should try to watch the videos here, though,” Finn says, frowning. 

“Yeah, probably not,” Puck agrees, then points to one of the links with a raised eyebrow. Finn clicks on the link for ‘First Timers’, and both Finn and Puck sit there for a second, staring at the screen with wide eyes.

“Maybe we should look at this later,” Finn whispers.

“Yeah,” Puck agrees, looking between Finn and the screen. “Maybe naked later.”

Finn’s face turns bright red as he closes the page. “Yeah,” he agrees. 

Puck grins as he straightens up. “Tomorrow night?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says, blushing even darker. “That’s good.”

Puck’s pretty sure that it wouldn’t matter if one of them was a girl or both of them were girls, he still couldn’t lean over and kiss Finn in the middle of class, so he just grins wider and watches Finn’s blush very slowly fade. The class finally ends, cutting off the teacher’s monotone ramblings, and Puck nudges Finn’s shoulder as they leave. 

“See you at practice.” Puck heads down the hall to his last class, not really paying attention to it, either, and then he finds the locker room on his second try. First he inadvertently finds a supply closet, which might come in handy, and he claims two lockers together in the locker room while he waits for Finn. 

Finn finally arrives, looking relieved to see Puck. “I ended up on the wrong side of the school!” he says. “The custodian showed me where to go, though.”

“I found an unlocked supply closet,” Puck says, nodding. “Good to know, I guess.” 

“Awesome,” Finn says. He shoves his backpack into the locker and starts pulling off his shirt. 

One of the guys down the row suddenly hoots in their direction. “Damn, look at you! Tall guy!”

Finn stops, arms still above his head and shirt still on his arms, and looks down at himself. “Yeah? I’m tall.”

“That is a _lot_ of hickeys,” the guy says, slapping the guy next to him and then pointing at Finn. 

“No,” Finn says, continuing to remove his shirt. “A lot of them are bites.”

That just makes more of the guys hoot and whistle, and Puck smirks as he starts to change his clothes. “Damn!” the same guy says. “Good to know someone’s getting some.” 

Most of the guys start muttering at that, some variation of ‘I’m not’ or ‘not me’, but Puck shakes his head at one of the louder complainers. “Speak for yourself,” he says. “Some of us don’t have anything to complain about.” That causes more yelling in the locker room, and Puck smirks, nodding. “Yep. _Damn_ good blow jobs.”

Finn sighs happily. “Yeah, blow jobs are awesome.”

Puck couldn’t have planned the locker room conversation better; by the time they walk onto the field, he and Finn are cooler than most of the other freshmen and at least half of the sophomores on the team. The coach is still in ugly, too-small shorts, and he yells a lot, which means it’s not until they’re running laps around the field that Puck looks up in the stands. 

“Hey, Finn?” Puck says as they jog. 

“Yeah?” Finn says between breaths.

“Look up in the stands and tell me if those two don’t look familiar,” Puck says. 

Finn looks up at the stands, then straight ahead again. “Yeah, that’s Kurt and Mercedes.”

Puck looks over again, and this time, Kurt and Mercedes wave, smiling brightly. “I don’t know if we’ve got new friends or stalkers,” Puck says to Finn. 

“They’re stalker friends,” Finn says. 

“We should make them join the team if they’re going to watch the whole time,” Puck says. “Or Kurt, I guess, I don’t think they’d let Mercedes play.”

“She could join the cheerleaders. What do they call them?” Finn asks. “Some kind of cereal. I keep thinking of Kix.”

“Cheerios, but Kix would be cooler.” 

“Yeah, it would!” 

Every time Puck looks over at the stands, Kurt and Mercedes are smiling, waving, or usually both, and Puck scowls at them. Scowling just seems to make them wave more, though, and by their third lap, Finn starts waving back at them.

“You’re gonna encourage them,” Puck says, but behind them, he can hear one of the guys talking about the ‘cute chick’ in the stands. 

“We’re friends,” Finn puffs as he runs. “Friends encourage each other.”

“I’m not gonna write ‘em letters or anything, dork,” Puck says. 

“You don’t have to write. Just gotta wave.”

“Uh-huh,” Puck grunts as they finally stop running laps. “Do you know who Ryan somebody is?”

“Uh. No?” Finn asks. “Am I supposed to?”

“I think maybe he’s an actor or something,” Puck tries to explain. “Kurt said something about him earlier, but I had no clue.” 

“Oh. Is he cute or something?” Finn asks. “Does Kurt like him?”

“Dunno. He said cute like Ryan somebody or cute like some kind of puppy,” Puck says. “I told him cute like Sam Winchester.”

“Who’s cute like Sam Winchester?” 

Puck grins at him. “Dork.” 

“What?” Finn asks.

“That’s my answer,” Puck says as they wait in line for some drill or another. 

“What’d Kurt say?”

“Uh, he pulled out an _iPhone_ , ‘cause I guess he didn’t know who Sam was. And then he was all ‘I know!’”

“Dude, he has an iPhone? That’s awesome,” Finn says. “Those things are really expensive!”

“I know! He’d better be careful,” Puck says. 

“But he thought Sam was cute, too?” Finn asks.

“Yeah. Or did you miss the part where he’s been hitting on you all day?”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s doing,” Finn insists. “I think he’s just trying to be friends.”

“Nah, he was a lot nicer until he realized,” Puck says. “I think he got his hopes up in homeroom or something.” 

“About what?” Finn asks. 

“You, duh.” Puck shrugs and takes his turn on the drill, then heads to the end of the line and waits for Finn. “He thinks you’re cute. He wants you to be with him.” Puck shrugs. “I mean, I can’t _blame_ him, exactly.”

“I don’t think he really does. He’s just messing with you,” Finn says. 

“Why would he bother if he didn’t?”

“Maybe he likes _you_ ,” Finn suggests. “I mean, if I were choosing between you and me, I’d totally choose you.”

Puck laughs. “Nah, I doubt it.” He wouldn’t doubt it, except for the fact that Kurt was a lot friendlier and wanted to hear about his boyfriend until Kurt realized it was Finn. 

“Any gay dude would want you,” Finn says. “You’re awesome and hot and have badass hair.”

“I am awesome and hot,” Puck agrees, “and I do have badass hair. Don’t need all of ‘em, though.”

“You don’t?” Finn asks, grinning over at Puck.

“Why would I?” Puck asks, smirking back. “Got—”

“Hudson! Puckerman!” Coach shouts at them. “Quit making eyes at each other and _run the freaking drill!_ ”

“Oh, yeah, you’re sooo gay!” one of the dudes calls out, laughing. 

“Totally gay!” Finn yells back in agreement as he turns to run the drill. 

Puck smirks and looks up at the stands to see if Kurt and Mercedes noticed the exchange. The two of them are golf clapping, and Puck rolls his eyes a little, still smirking. The rest of practice goes by pretty quickly, and Puck and Finn follow the rest of the team into the locker room. 

Puck’s pulling his shirt over his head when he hears the showers start, and he looks sideways at Finn. “You showering here?” he asks. 

“Figured I would, since my mom won’t be here for another twenty minutes,” Finn says. “You?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Puck says slowly. 

“Wanna share?” Finn asks.

Puck raises an eyebrow and smirks a little, then looks around the locker room and raises the other eyebrow. “Dork.” 

“Just offering,” Finn says, shrugging, then breaking into a wide squinty-eyed smile. 

Puck grins back, then grabs a towels and starts walking towards the showers. Finn takes the shower next to him, and Puck tries his best to keep his eyes on the wall. More of his showers than not have been with Finn, since the middle of the summer, so showering with him but not really is even weirder. When he does glance over at Finn, Finn looks like he’s concentrating just as much on not looking over at Puck. Eventually, they look at each other at the same time, and Puck grins. 

Finn blushes furiously and looks away, then down, then sneaks another look over at Puck, face still red. Puck’s grin gets wider, and then he ducks under the spray a final time and turns it off, wrapping his towel around his waist. Finn stays in the shower a little longer, and by the time he finally walks over to his locker, Puck is mostly dressed and the locker room has started to empty. 

“Wasn’t as much fun as some,” Puck says under his breath. Finn responds with the lopsided smile, his face getting a little bit pink again. As soon as Finn’s dressed, they head outside to wait for Carole to pick them up, and Puck notices Kurt and Mercedes are gone, anyway. He and Finn sit down the curb and Puck looks over with a little grin. “So what was the blushing in the shower about?”

“Huh? Nothing!” Finn answers, a little too quickly.

“C’mon, tell me,” Puck says, nudging Finn in the side and using the excuse to slide closer to him. “What was it?”

“I was… you’re gonna _laugh_!” Finn protests.

“Won’t,” Puck promises. “Tell me!”

“I was thinking about that website.” 

“Yeah?” Puck says. “That was, um. Kinda cool.”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “But now I keep thinking about stuff.”

“Yeah. I want to watch those videos,” Puck admits. 

“Yeah. I wanna, uh.” Finn blushes again. 

“Gotta say it,” Puck says. 

“I don’t even know what some of that stuff was,” Finn confesses. “But I think I wanna do it.”

Puck grins. “Yeah. Same.” Before either of them can say anything else, Carole drives up, rolling down the window. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long!” she says.

“No, it’s okay,” Finn says. He picks up his backpack and holds it in front of his lap as he stands up, sliding into the backseat and leaving the door open so Puck can get in after him. 

“Thanks, Mrs. H,” Puck says, holding his backpack in his lap, too. 

“So how was your first day, Finn?” Carole asks. “Did you boys make any new friends?”

“We did!” Finn says. “Everybody on the football team is really nice, and we made two friends in our, uh. Which class was it?”

“History?” Puck guesses. “And lunch.”

“Yeah, and lunch! They sat with us! Their names are Mercedes and Kurt,” Finn says. “They even came to our football practice!”

“Oh, that sounds nice. Is Kurt on the team? Or is Mercedes one of the cheerleaders?” Carole asks, sounding slightly confused. 

“No, they’re just regular,” Finn says. “That’s a good idea, though.”

And your classes went well?” 

“Yeah. The woodshop teacher smells weird, though. Like cough medicine.”

“I get to cook,” Puck contributes. “But the class has a weird name.” 

“It’s good you’re paying attention to your, ah, academic endeavours,” Carole says, then turns the radio up a little as she continues towards Puck’s. 

“Mom, can Puck eat dinner with us tonight?” Finn asks. “Please?”

“Not tonight, sweetie,” Carole says. “I’m sure Noah’s mom wants to hear how his first day went!” She pulls up beside the curb, and looks over her shoulder. “Maybe another night, boys.”

“I’ll call you later,” Puck says to Finn, climbing out of the backseat. “Thanks, Mrs. H.” 

“Bye, Puck!” Finn calls through the window as Carole starts to pull away.

Puck waves and heads inside, appreciating the approximately five seconds of quiet before Julie comes running up to him, asking him about high school in between her comments about first grade. Carole wasn’t exactly right; it was more Julie who would have missed him at dinner, Puck’s pretty sure, and once his ma takes Julie into the bathroom for her bath and to wash her hair, Puck shuts his door and dials Finn’s number. 

“Hudson residence, Carole speaking,” Carole’s voice says after two rings. 

“Hey, it’s Puck,” Puck says. “Finn done with dinner?”

“Hold on one second, sweetie,” Carole says, and then Puck can hear her covering the phone with her hand before handing it off to Finn. 

“Hey!” Finn says. “Hang on, I’ll go to my room. Mom! I’m going to my room!”

There’s another set of noises and pauses, and while Finn’s going to his room, Puck props a chair under his door knob and flops onto his bed. 

“Okay, I’m in my room. I locked the door, even,” Finn says. “What’d you eat for dinner?”

“Meatloaf,” Puck answers. “I put the chair under the doorknob.” 

“We had baked chicken and rice,” Finn says. 

“Nice. Ma brought some fruit tray leftovers from work, so that was cool.” Puck pauses. “Are you gonna watch those videos?”

“Yeah. I mean, do you think I should? I could wait for you.”

“Just keep the phone near the speaker and I can hear ‘em,” Puck suggests. 

“Okay,” Finn says. Puck can hear the sound of Finn’s computer booting up in the background. “Okay, I’m just gonna find that site again.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says. “It looked like it had a lot of stuff.”

“Oh. There’s two videos,” Finn says. “Which one?”

“We should probably watch both, right? So just pick one to watch first.”

“Okay. Uh, so… top or bottom?”

“Umm.” Puck slides his hand against his dick.

“The caption thingy says the top is the one doing the fucking,” Finn says, clearly reading off the site. “You want me to play that one? You sure you don’t want to watch it yourself?”

“Yeah. We can watch ‘em again tomorrow night or something, I don’t want to wait,” Puck admits. 

“Okay,” Finn says. He must hit play, because suddenly the sound of an Australian or somewhere accent narrating starts to come through the phone. They’re both completely quiet until the video ends, and Puck has his hand around his dick and his jeans off by the time it stops, too. 

“Um,” Puck says. “What—what was on the screen?”

“The, uh.” Finn’s voice is breathy, like it gets when he’s really hard. “The one guy, the top I guess? Was, uh. He was fucking the other guy. The bottom.”

“Yeah?” Puck tries to picture it, but he keeps picturing himself and Finn, not two random guys, and his dick gets even harder. “That sounds a lot better than porn.”

“But the first part, where he was talking about, you know. Fingers,” Finn says. “The guy who’s the top, he, uh, put his finger, you know. _Into_ the other guy.”

“Yeah?” Puck considers that for a few moments. “We could do that.”

“Do you want to do that?” Finn asks, sounding surprised.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Puck says quickly, “but, um. Yeah.” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you?” Puck asks. 

Finn doesn’t answer at first, and Puck could almost swear he can hear Finn blushing through the phone. Eventually, Finn says, “Yeah. I think so.”

“Awesome.” Puck strokes his dick slowly. “Should we watch the other one?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “This is the bottom one.”

The narration doesn’t sound all that different, just a few changes, and in the middle of it, Puck asks, “Is it the same video as the other one?”

“Yeah, it looks like,” Finn says. “Just some of the words are different.” He exhales loudly and adds, “This is way hotter than the Batman porn, though.”

“Just _listening_ to it is hotter,” Puck admits. “Do you, you know. Want to do it? Sometime?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I want you to do that to me.”

“Oh.” Puck can feel his breathing speed up a little, and he moves his hand faster on his dick. “You want me… to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Finn breathes. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s—that’s definitely okay,” Puck says. “I mean, you could fuck me, too, if you wanted to. But yeah. Yeah, I want to fuck you.” 

“We should do that. Soon, maybe.”

“Yeah. We need some of the lube stuff, I guess,” Puck says, and he closes his eyes, picturing his dick in Finn’s ass. 

“The video says we need con-doms,” Finn says, pronouncing it like the Australian narrator. “Condoms, I mean,” he corrects himself, saying it like an American.

“Dork. I don’t have any diseases,” Puck points out. 

“Me either, but the video said!”

“They just look kinda uncomfortable,” Puck admits. “I don’t really want to use one.” 

“Okay,” Finn says. 

“I don’t know where to get the lube, though,” Puck says. “Are you jerking off?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Too bad you aren’t here.”

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “Rather be jerking you off.”

“No you wouldn’t,” Puck teases. “You’d rather be blowing me again.”

“Yeah.” Finn laughs softly. “I would.”

“Tomorrow night,” Puck promises. “We should have at least a couple of hours.” 

“I’ll do it twice,” Finn says.

Puck grins as he starts moving his hand even faster. “Awesome. Don’t come on your keyboard.” 

“Wish I could come on you,” Finn says, starting to make the whiny noise that means he’s close.

“Yeah, me too,” Puck says. “Wanted to blow you in the showers earlier.”

“Yeah?” Finn squeaks, then, “Oh, oh Puck!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says. “Fuck, that’s hot.” He thrusts up into his hand, picturing Finn coming with his face red, and then Puck comes, spurting all over his hand and stomach. “Oh, fuck, yeah,” he says. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. He starts to laugh, sounding almost like he’s been in Carole’s box wine. “You’re my boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Puck agrees. He thinks it’s weird that he’s anybody’s boyfriend, but it makes Finn happy, and isn’t that what a boyfriend’s supposed to do? “And I guess that means you’re my boyfriend,” he says. “If you can handle that.”

“I’m your boyfriend,” Finn says happily. 

“You know it’s not you, right?” Puck says. “When I get weird at school? It’s just my crap and the world and all that.”

Finn’s quiet for a while. “You pushed me,” he says.

“Fuck,” Puck says softly. “Yeah. I did. I’m—I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be…” he trails off, not knowing how to word it. 

“You don’t want to be on the bottom of the ladder,” Finn says.

“Yeah. And I don’t want you there, either,” Puck says more firmly. “We just need a little time. Make sure the team likes us. You know?”

“Okay. Whatever you want to do,” Finn says. “Just…”

“Just what, dork?”

“Just, just don’t be mean to me to keep other people from guessing.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees. “I won’t.” He pauses. “Can I be mean to people who are mean to you?”

“Well, yeah, I’m your boyfriend,” Finn says. “You’re supposed to.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, but I was being mean to people who were mean to you before now,” he points out. “So Kurt asked me how long we’d been together.”

“Yeah? What’d you tell him?”

“I finally said a couple of months. I guess that’s right?” 

“Nope,” Finn says.

“No? Three months?” Puck guesses. 

“Sixth grade. That fat, mean kid pushed me down on the gravel and cut up my knee,” Finn says. “And he was laughing at me ‘cause I was crying. You punched him in the face and you kissed my knee.”

“Huh.” Puck thinks for a moment, barely remembering the incident. “Yeah, okay, I remember that. But, dork, then I’m like the worst boyfriend ever. That was years ago, and I’ve never even taken you to a movie or whatever.” 

“Yeah, but you let me suck your dick, so we’re cool,” Finn says, laughing.

“Oh, is that all it takes?” Puck laughs, too. “I’m gonna remember that.” 

“Once you can drive, you have to take me out.”

“Okay,” Puck agrees. “I’ll take you to Breadstix or something.” 

Finn laughs again. “Cool. Hey, Puck?”

“Yeah?” 

“That thing I said that time? I meant it, okay?”

“Okay,” Puck says softly, thinking about Finn’s face the rest of that day, and even if Finn said it outright again, Puck’s still not sure _how_ someone just says it so easily. “You tired?”

“Yeah. You should have dreams about me tonight, okay?” Finn says. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck agrees. “I like those kind of dreams.”

“Me, too,” Finn says. “‘Night, Puck.”

“Night, Finn.” 

 

The next morning goes a lot smoother, and Puck nudges Finn’s shoulder when they get to his homeroom, sending Finn off to his seat behind Kurt with a little smile on his face. Mercedes sits down next to Puck during first period, and after about five minutes of Puck attempting to take notes, she shakes her head at him. 

“I’ll let you use mine for tests,” she whispers, and Puck brightens. 

“Thanks,” he says, grinning at her, which is apparently frightening to the girl with the headband on the other side of Mercedes. Puck thinks the headband-girl might be someone from temple, but he’s not sure. He does make a note to find out about the Cheerios for Mercedes, because he’s pretty sure she’d be a good cheerleader. She can be loud and she smiles nicely, and Puck’s not sure what all a cheerleader has to do other than cheer and be happy. 

After first period, Puck heads to second, sitting down next to Kurt again. “Hey.”

“Hello there!” Kurt says. “All rested up from your practice yesterday?”

“Yep,” Puck says, nodding. “You didn’t get burnt, did you?”

“My face lotion has an SPF.”

“Face lotion?” Puck repeats. 

“I plan to still look this good when I’m forty,” Kurt says. “So, football is much more violent than I realized. And do you always wear those tight white pants?”

“Uh, yeah, they’re football pants,” Puck explains. “But we’re going to make you join the team.”

“Excuse me?” Kurt says, choking back what seems like a laugh. 

“You, us, football team.” He leans over. “Do you know what the Cheerios do? We thought we’d get Mercedes to join the Cheerios, too.”

“ _What?_ Why?” Kurt asks.

“Well, if you’re going to watch practice, you might as well be practicing,” Puck says. “It’s logical. But they probably won’t let Mercedes on the football team.”

“No, no, I have no intention of joining the football team,” Kurt protests. “I like my face. I want it to stay correctly proportioned.” He gestures at his face. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Puck says dismissively. “That’s what the helmet’s for. Anyway, maybe you could be, I don’t know. Can you kick? Usually the kicker doesn’t get tackled.”

“Are you familiar with the Rockettes?” Kurt asks.

“Like on the parade?” Puck says. “Yeah. Oh. Ohh. You can kick like that? Sweet!”

“Allow me to demonstrate.” Kurt stands, pushing his desk slightly to the side, straightens his shirt, and then kicks. High. Very high. Kurt straightens his clothes again, pulls his desk back, and sits, hands folded primly in front of him.

“You have a change of clothes here?” Puck asks, grinning. 

“I have several changes of clothes,” Kurt says.

“Not like that kind of clothes,” Puck says, gesturing to Kurt’s outfit. “Clothes you can sweat in.”

“I have yoga pants and a t-shirt for gym class,” Kurt says, wrinkling his nose.

“Okay, that’ll work. Meet me or Finn after seventh period,” he says. “I have… a class. That’s not too far from the locker rooms, especially if I don’t detour to a supply closet first.”

“Is that a concern?” Kurt asks, looking puzzled and a little overwhelmed.

“Well, I did yesterday, but then, it’s probably good to know where a supply closet is,” Puck explains. 

“Okay,” Kurt says slowly. “I’ll just take your word on that. And you’re going to make Mercedes join the Cheerios? Really?”

“Well, I mean she could see if the football coach’d let her play, but she’s got a good smile. Cheerleaders need that, right?”

“I suppose?” 

“See?” Puck grins. “It’ll be great. We can all go when there’s away games and shit.”

“That could be fun,” Kurt says. “In exchange, however, I want something from you.”

“No, you can’t have Finn,” Puck says flatly.

“The year is still young,” Kurt says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “No. What I want is for you to let me select one item of clothing for you per week, which you will wear without complaint. Finn as well.”

Puck looks at Kurt suspiciously. “Who’s buying it?”

“My dad, though as far as he’s concerned, it’s for me,” Kurt says. He holds his hand out. “You’re asking me to risk my face. All I’m asking is for you to wear jeans that flatter your butt.”

“Fine,” Puck agrees, taking Kurt’s hand and shaking on it. “But maybe no weird sleeves?”

“Please,” Kurt snorts. “Like I’d put you in Prada. Diesel, maybe even Calvin Klein, but not Prada.”

“Gas?” Puck asks, confused, and he shakes his head. “Calvin Klein is underwear, though, right?”

“Oh, my poor, poor friend. You have so much to learn about fashion,” Kurt says, with a sad shake of his head.

“I swear I didn’t sign up for that elective,” Puck says. “The cooking thing’s pretty easy, though.”

Kurt just shakes his head again and spends the rest of the class taking notes. Puck shrugs and props his head up on his hand; if Mercedes is letting him have the notes from first period, he’s pretty sure he can get the notes for second period from Kurt. 

Puck goes into fourth period ready for them to tell Mercedes their plan, but as soon as the bell rings, the teacher glares at Puck and Kurt. “Mr. Hummel. Mr. Puckerman. Did you have something to contribute to today’s topic?”

Finn raises his hand, waving it in the air, until the teacher asks, “Yes, Mr. Hudson.”

“I have to pee,” Finn announces.

“Fine,” the teacher says, turning back to the board. Finn turns and winks at Puck.

“I’m a distraction,” he whispers, as he stands up to leave the classroom.

Puck grins at Finn’s back and gives Kurt a thumbs up, and even Kurt looks amused as Finn traipses dramatically out of the classroom. By the time Finn gets back to the classroom, the teacher seems to have forgotten about them, except to occasionally stare at them if they look too much like talking, Puck guesses. 

“I told Kurt to meet us after seventh,” Puck says to Finn while they’re going through the lunch line. 

"Cool. What'd he say about the football thing?" Finn asks.

“We have to wear fancy clothes or something. No, not fancy, expensive,” Puck corrects himself. “I think he’s trying to like… improve our wardrobes, in exchange for playing.” 

"Aww, that's really nice!" Finn says. "Nothing shiny or ruffly, though."

“Nah, he said something about making our asses look good,” Puck says, heading towards the table. “But we’ve still gotta get Mercedes on board.” 

“On board for what?” Mercedes says, sitting down. 

"Our asses don't look good now?" Finn asks, looking down at his own ass with a scrunched-up eyebrow sort of frown.

"Your jeans could stand to be more tailored," Kurt says, staring at Finn's ass a little too hard for Puck's comfort. 

“Hey, eyes up,” Puck says to Kurt. 

"Just a quick sartorial appraisal," Kurt retorts.

"My ass is sartorial now?" Finn exclaims in dismay. "Is that bad?"

“Not sarcastic,” Puck says, shaking his head. 

"So tall," Kurt says dreamily. "So cute. Thank god."

“Stop it,” Puck says. 

“On board with _what_?” Mercedes demands. 

“You can tell her, since I told Kurt,” Puck offers to Finn. 

"Do you want—no wait, that's not right. You want to be a Cheerio," Finn informs Mercedes. "That way you can come to all the games with us and we don't any of us have to be on the bottom rung. And, uh, safety in numbers. And… skirts?" He looks at Puck for backup.

“Good smile,” Puck says, nodding. 

“Hold up. You think I want to be a _Cheerio_?” Mercedes asks incredulously. “Kurt, are you listening to this nonsense?”

"It's not a terrible plan, Mercedes," Kurt says. "Do you know how many spitballs I got hit with today?"

“Not any in second period,” Puck says, glowering a little. 

"Exactly," Kurt says. "And one of the Cro-Magnons from my first period class actually slapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was friends with Finn, Puck, or both of them, and did I have your phone number," he says to Mercedes. 

“See?” Puck looks at Mercedes smugly. “Kurt’s going to be the kicker. He can kick like on the parade,” he adds, looking at Finn. 

"Dude, seriously?" Finn asks.

“Seriously,” Puck confirms, nodding. 

“So you two have decided we’re going to just join along with you?” Mercedes says, still somewhat disbelievingly. “It can’t be that simple. We have to try out and everything, right?” 

"Dude," Finn says to Kurt. "Show me!"

"If I must," Kurt sighs, standing and performing an even more vigorous high kick.

"Whoa, that's h—awesome. It's awesome," Finn says, turning a little pink.

Puck frowns, glancing sideways at Finn and taking a bite of his chicken sandwich. Maybe Kurt joining the football team isn’t such a great idea after all, but it’s too late now. Puck sighs and puts his sandwich down. 

“Just tell the cheerleader coach that, I don’t know. You know a famous gymnast?” Puck suggests to Mercedes. 

"You'll be fine," Kurt assures her. "We'll make sure you're in something fierce, and she'll have to take you."

Mercedes sighs, but she smiles, looking pleased. “You three aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?” 

“No,” Puck says, shaking his head, and Kurt and Finn also shake their heads. 

“Fine. I’ll find out when the tryouts are or whatever,” Mercedes concedes. 

"This is a good fish sandwich," Finn says, gesturing with his chicken sandwich.

“I’m pretty sure it’s chicken,” Puck says with a wince. 

"Maybe it's chicken of the sea," Finn muses.

"Oh, but he's cute," Kurt whispers loudly to Mercedes.

Puck glares at Kurt again, then down at his sandwich. Finn bumps his leg against Puck's under the table and smiles at Puck over his sandwich. Puck half-smiles and bumps his leg against Finn’s, then sighs again and concentrates on finishing his sandwich before the bell rings. Once the bell does ring, Puck bumps Finn’s shoulder. 

"Hey," Finn says.

“I should show you that thing I found,” Puck says vaguely, picking up his tray. 

"Yeah, cool," Finn says. He picks up his own tray and waves at Kurt and Mercedes without really looking back at them. "I don't mind if I'm late. I'll say I got lost."

“Totally possible,” Puck agrees, leading Finn through the hall. “But it’s a nice little supply closet.” 

"Hopefully not too little. Kurt doesn't think I'd fit in a closet," Finn says.

Puck rolls his eyes where Finn can’t see and doesn’t respond, just tries the knob to the supply closet and then pulls Finn in with him. “Seem to fit just fine,” Puck says, pushing Finn against the wall and biting his neck. Finn whimpers and puts his hands on the sides of Puck's head.

"Yeah," Finn manages. "More?"

Puck bites down harder, licking over the skin, then nips at Finn’s ear. “Want me to blow you?”

"Oh, shit, yeah," Finn says. "Please?"

“I did offer,” Puck says, unzipping Finn’s jeans and pushing them, plus Finn’s boxers, down. “Hate all these fucking clothes at school,” he says, sinking down onto his knees and grabbing Finn’s hips. He takes Finn’s dick in his mouth fast, as far as he can, until he feels like he’s going to gag, and his hands are probably going to bruise Finn. 

"Oh, oh my god, oh Puck," Finn says, his hands still on Puck's head, not moving it, just resting there. "That's so good."

Puck smirks a little around Finn’s dick, bobbing up and down as fast as he can, his tongue moving over the skin. There’s a lot of things he wants Finn to know, that he has no idea how to say, but he knows how to tell him in other ways, or at least he hopes the message gets across. He digs his fingers into Finn’s skin, pressing his nails in, short as they are, and moves faster. Finn starts making his whiny sound, one of his hands sliding into the short hair of Puck's mohawk, and soon his hips start jerking forward as he comes in Puck's mouth.

Puck keeps sucking until he’s sure Finn’s done, and he pulls Finn’s boxers and jeans back up before standing. “Feel good?” he asks, pressing against Finn. 

Before Finn answers, he pulls Puck's head towards his, kissing Puck hard and pushing his tongue into Puck's mouth. He's smiling as he pulls back. "Feel _so_ good," he says. "You're so awesome, Puck."

“Think about that all afternoon,” Puck says, smirking. 

"I would have anyway," Finn confesses. "I think about you all day."

“Yeah.” Puck bites softly at Finn’s neck. “Me too.” 

 

Thinking about it all afternoon is actually a double-edged sword, because it means Puck’s thinking about it, too, all through cooking class and their computer class and up until the point that seventh period ends, and Puck goes to find Kurt, head still a little bit back in the supply closet and also a little bit thinking ahead to that evening. If they time it right, they can watch the video and still have a couple of hours before Puck’s ma and Julie get back, and Puck’s really looking forward to those two hours or so. 

Puck finds Kurt walking up and down the hall outside the locker room, trying to look like he’s not just there to look for tall, cute dudes. When Kurt sees Puck, he wheels on him, a ferocious look on his face, and Puck takes a half-step back, hands up in front of his chest. “Whoa, hey.”

“That locker room is full of _boys_ , Puck!” Kurt says, his voice getting even pitchier the more worked up he gets. “ _Naked_ boys!”

Puck grins and throws his arm around Kurt’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know. Everyone on the football team is a boy.” He lowers his voice. “It’s better than Batman porn, but that’s not really that hard.”

“Batman porn?” Kurt repeats. “But that’s beside the point. What if I accidentally look at one of them? What if they see me looking? What if they, I don’t know, hang me from my locker by my underwear or, or, or throw me in a dumpster or something!”

“A _dumpster_?” Puck snorts. “We won’t let ‘em do anything to do you. Anyway, everyone accidentally looks. Or deliberately, they were all staring at Finn’s chest yesterday. Just don’t _stare_ and it’ll be cool.”

“Why were they all staring at Finn’s chest?” Kurt asks. “He’s cute, but…”

“Oh.” Puck smirks. “You could say he’s a little marked up.”

“Marked up?”

Puck leans over to whisper in Kurt’s ear. “Bites, dude.”

Kurt’s neck turns pink. “ _Bites_?”

“I _told_ you I know what to do with _my_ boyfriend.”

“I—I don’t know what to say,” Kurt admits. 

“That’s a new one, at least,” Puck says, steering Kurt into the locker room and heading for the same set of lockers he and Finn used the day before. He pulls off his t-shirt and then looks at Kurt. “C’mon, get changed.”

Kurt’s neck gets pinker as he puts his bags in the locker on the other side of Puck’s, opening one of the bags and looking through it without glancing up at Puck. “And he likes that? Getting bitten?”

“Yep,” Puck says cheerfully. 

Kurt somehow manages to get his current shirt off and the t-shirt on without flashing more than an inch or two of skin, and he turns away from Puck to change into the yoga pants he’d mentioned at lunch. When Kurt turns back to face Puck, he startles and yelps, “Oh my god!”

“What?” Puck asks, puzzled. “What is it?” He looks down. “Do I have an infected cut or something? Finn had one of those two years ago and didn’t realize it, ‘cause it was on the back of his thigh.”

“Can you please put your clothes on?” Kurt asks. “I can’t talk to you when you’re just wearing _that_.” He waves his hand in the general direction of Puck’s crotch.

“Nah, I was going to stay like this at least until Finn got here,” Puck says blandly. 

“Stay like what?” Finn voice asks from the other side of Puck. 

“Kurt objects to my state of nudity,” Puck says mock-formally. 

“ _Dude_ ,” Finn says, staring at Kurt with his head tilted to the side. “ _Why_? I thought you were gay?”

“Being gay doesn’t mean I want to see every guy naked!” Kurt protests.

“Yeah, but it should mean you wanna see Puck naked. I mean, look at him,” Finn says. “He’s awesome.”

“I am awesome,” Puck agrees. “But the coach’ll probably start yelling soon,” he admits, grabbing his football pants. Finn also pulls off his clothes and starts getting dressed, and Kurt at least stops complaining about Puck being most naked, though Puck starts to wonder if it’s because Kurt’s checking out Finn instead, so Puck leans in to disrupt Kurt’s view. 

“That’s a lot of bites,” Kurt acknowledges. “Didn’t that hurt?”

“Yeah,” Finn answers cheerfully. 

Puck turns towards Finn, grinning. “Never said it couldn’t be fun at the same time.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “It hurts and it’s awesome, at the same time.”

“Everybody get your lazy butts out onto the field,” Coach suddenly yells, then blows his whistle. “Now, now, now!”

“Does he always blow the whistle like that?” Kurt asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Well, he did yesterday and at tryouts, anyway.”

“That way he doesn’t have to come up with as many words to yell,” Puck says. 

As the three of them trot out onto the field, Coach screams, “Puckerman! What’s that little girl doing on my football field?”

“He’s not a girl,” Finn protests. “He’s just… pretty.”

“Help,” Puck whispers under his breath, then looks at Coach. “You said you needed a kicker, so Finn and me found you one. Show ‘em, Kurt.” 

Kurt looks pleadingly at Puck for a second, then flings his leg up into one of those parade-girl high kicks, getting even more clearance than he did at lunch. Coach’s mouth gapes open, and the other players stop walking and turn to stare at Kurt. Kurt smiles uncomfortably and gives them a Miss America wave.

“We’ll get you a uniform after practice,” Coach says. “Can you do that with a ball in front of you?”

“I’ve never tried,” Kurt says. 

“Get a ball,” Coach shouts at some guy sitting over by the water cooler. Coach puts his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and steers him forcefully in the direction of the field. Kurt looks back over his shoulder, eyes wide with panic.

“Have fun!” Finn offers.

Puck grins as a few of the guys make a point of telling them what a great idea it was, and Puck bumps fists with a couple of them. Everything’s working out pretty damn well, and he bumps his shoulder against Finn’s as Coach sets Kurt up with some footballs in front of the goalposts. While Puck, Finn, and the rest of the team run drills, Kurt kicks, sending ball after ball sailing between the posts, kicked from farther and farther down the field.

By the time Coach sets the ball at the thirty, Kurt positioning himself to kick, the rest of the team has stopped pretending to run their laps. They all just stand and stare as the ball flies through the air and between the posts. Kurt brushes his hair off his forehead and looks over at Finn and Puck, giving them a little wave.

“Wow, he can really kick,” Finn says.

“We’re geniuses.” 

“Yeah we are!” 

“Hudson! Puckerman!” Coach shrieks. “Get over here!”

Puck shrugs and jogs over, Finn beside him. “Coach,” Puck says. 

“You and Hudson are now responsible for the care and well-being of McKinley’s new kicker,” Coach says. “Help him get suited up, keep him out of trouble, and don’t let him do anything to hurt that leg.”

Puck’s not sure how that’s all that different than five minutes earlier, except for the emphasis on Kurt’s kicking leg, but he shrugs and nods. “Sure, Coach. We’ll keep him out of trouble.” He smirks at Finn. 

“Kicker!” Coach says, turning back to Kurt. “What’s your name?”

“Kurt Hummel,” Kurt says.

“Okay. Hummel, go run your laps with Puckerman and Hudson,” Coach says, then when Kurt doesn’t immediately do it, he shouts, “Go! Go!” then blows his whistle. 

“See?” Puck says triumphantly as they jog. “Everything’s cool.” 

“Was that good?” Kurt asks. “Did I kick it from far enough?”

“Dude, that was awesome,” Finn assures him. 

“Good,” Kurt says, holding his head a little higher as the three of them jog around the field. 

When everyone finishes their laps, they stand around for a few minutes, waiting for Coach to drive his golf cart back across the field. “Hey, Hudson,” one of the guys, maybe a sophomore, calls out. “Isn’t he kind of gay?” He points at Kurt like Kurt can’t hear him or something, and Puck rolls his eyes. Kurt pales and looks frantically between Finn and Puck.

“Dude, did you see how far he can kick?” Finn asks the guy, and the guy nods. “Then do you really _care_?”

“Uh. I guess not,” the guy admits. “Good job, kid. What’s your name again?” 

“Hummel,” Puck supplies. 

There’s a few mutters of ‘good job, Hummel’ as Coach finally arrives, and Puck smirks through all of Coach’s instructions and most of the next drill. It seems weird to Puck that they haven’t really done anything specific to any positions or had a scrimmage, but Puck guesses it’ll come together at some point. 

After practice, everyone heads into the locker room, and Puck grins at Finn as they strip in front of their lockers. Kurt practically leans into his locker in his attempt to avoid looking in their, or anyone else’s, direction. Puck lowers his voice as he shoves his clothes into his own locker. 

“You can look all you want at me,” he offers. 

“I’m fine, thanks,” Kurt mumbles, the back of his neck turning pink. 

“I do like a blusher,” Puck muses. “Think it goes all the way down his chest?” he says to Finn. 

“ _I’m_ a blusher,” Finn says.

“Oh my god,” Kurt says. “Please leave me alone.”

“But it’s time to shower,” Puck argues.

“You’ve gotta shower,” Finn insists. “It’s part of practice. You don’t want to go home in your sweaty clothes. It’s probably, you know, bad for your skin or something.”

Kurt leans back from his locker enough to peer out at Finn. “That’s true.”

“So c’mon,” Puck says, throwing his arm around Kurt’s shoulder again. “Free towels and everything.” 

“Anyway, it’s no big deal. Everybody’s already seen _us_ naked,” Finn says. 

“But you two look like football players,” Kurt replies. 

“You look like, uh, the kicker,” Puck says, dragging Kurt with him. “I mean, one of us could throw you over our shoulder, dude.”

“Are you going to put me under the water in my clothes or forcibly undress me,” Kurt asks, trying to dig his heels into the locker room’s floor. 

“No forcible undressing until the fourth date,” Puck answers, exchanging a look with Finn that definitely means something, but Puck’s not entirely sure what it means. 

“Fine! Just stop dragging me!” Kurt says. “And turn around!”

Puck and Finn make a production of spinning around, and then Puck starts to peek, catching Finn’s eye as he does, too. Finn does that lips-pressed-together laugh-smile thing, his shoulders shaking a little. 

“Can we look yet?” Puck asks, still watching Kurt. 

The shower starts, and Kurt says, “Just go shower and leave me alone!”

“That’s a yes!” Finn declares.

“Oh my god!” Kurt squawks.

“Oh, it does,” Puck says. “Go all the way down, I mean.” 

“Aww,” Finn says. “He’s so _cute_!”

“Please leave me alone to die,” Kurt says. “Please? I just want to shower and then die.”

“We can’t,” Puck says solemnly. “Remember, we’re responsible for your well-being now.”

Finn puts on his fake-serious face and asks, “Do you need me to wash your hair?”

“Oh my god, please just go take your showers now!”

“But what if you slip and fall?” Puck asks. “We have to stay here and make sure you’re okay.” He reaches for the next shower over and turns it on. “Maybe we should carry him back to the lockers to make sure he doesn’t slip, Finn.”

Finn turns on the shower on the other side of Kurt and steps under the water. “Hold his hands, maybe. Or you can hold his hand and I’ll carry his bag so his legs don’t get tired.”

“I hate you both,” Kurt squeaks. 

“Damn, you two are messing with the new kid!” one guy yells. “You win at gay chicken.” 

“The trick’s to not be afraid to lose!” Finn shouts back, which makes the guy laugh.

“You know, you were wrong,” Puck says conversationally to Kurt, lowering his voice. “Finn fit into the supply closet after lunch just fine.” 

“I’m just trying to shower,” Kurt says. His eyes quickly flick over to Finn and then back to the wall ahead of him, though, and he gets redder. 

“Standing at full height, even,” Puck adds, still quiet.

Kurt’s face turns crimson. “Please don’t.”

“Okay, that’s kinda hot,” Puck says, not bothering to tell Kurt that it’s the blush, specifically. 

“What’s hot?” Finn asks, leaning over into Kurt’s shower space, presumably to hear Puck better. 

“Look at his face.” 

Finn looks at Kurt’s face, then grins. “You made him blush, like, a _lot_.”

“What’s it going to take?” Kurt asks. “What do I have to do to get you to let me just finish this shower?”

“Guess you’ll have to stop blushing so much,” Puck says. “Or you could get a haircut. Doesn’t take me as long to shower.”

“It doesn’t normally take me this long, but normally no one is talking to me!” Kurt says.

“Maybe you do need to wash his hair for him,” Puck says to Finn, grinning. 

Finn beams back at him. “Yeah, maybe so.”

“I’ll just wash it at home!” Kurt yelps. “Where are the towels?”

“Here, take mine,” Puck offers, turning off his water and holding a towel in one hand. Kurt also turns off his water, snatching the towel from Puck’s hand and quickly wrapping it around his waist, then Kurt skitters over to his locker, slightly hunched forward. Puck picks up another towel, wrapping it loosely around his waist. 

“Dude,” Finn says quietly to Puck. “I think he’s got a hardon.”

“So?” Puck says, gesturing his own dick. “He needs to cut loose a little.” 

“Think we’ve got time before we get picked up?” Finn asks. “We can go back to that closet.”

“You get to have Ma yell at you if we get the timing wrong,” Puck warns. 

“What time is she leaving for the thing?” Finn asks. He steps in closer to Puck, his mouth near Puck’s ear. “I want to suck your dick, like, _now_.”

“Fuck. Yeah. Six-thirty, I think,” Puck says. “You think there’s a closet in the locker room somewhere?”

“We could just wait until everybody else goes out,” Finn says. “Or, you know, I’m pretty tall. We could just lean on our lockers with my back to everybody and I can jerk you off under your towel.”

“Yeah, you are,” Puck agrees, walking back towards their lockers. “You have good ideas.” 

“You do, too,” Finn says. “It was smart to get these lockers, ‘cause it’s almost private back here, except for the showers.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck leans against his locker just like Finn suggested, grinning. Finn’s hand slides under Puck’s towel, wrapping around his dick and already moving. “Fuck, that’s good.” 

Kurt leans out from his locker to peer at Puck, eyebrows knitted together. “What’s going—oh my _god_!”

“Shhh,” Finn says. 

“If you keep it down, you can watch,” Puck offers. 

“Oh my god,” Kurt repeats… quietly.

Finn’s hand moves faster, his grip tightening a little as he leans against his locker, between Puck and the rest of the locker room, like nothing’s happening. And nothing is exactly visible, except the movement of Finn’s hand and the jerks of Puck’s hips towards Finn. The weird part is that Puck’s used to kissing or biting while they jerk off, and he can’t exactly do that. Finn mostly watches Puck’s face, but as Kurt’s breathing becomes a noticeable pant, Finn glances up at Kurt and grins widely, winking.

Puck starts to laugh as Kurt squeaks, and he looks over at Kurt, too, raising his eyebrows. Kurt’s face is bright red and his eyes are locked on the movements of Finn’s hand under the towel. His lips move, no sound coming out, but it looks like he’s mouthing “oh my god.”

Puck notices enough of the locker room sound and movement to decide it’s either empty or mostly empty, and when he feels himself start to come, he pulls Finn down into a rough kiss, kissing him until he sags against the locker and grins at Finn. "Thanks."

“You’re welcome,” Finn says, pulling his hand out from under Puck’s towel and then wiping it on his own towel. “Bet your mom’s here now. Hey, Kurt?”

Kurt looks like he might just swoon headfirst into his locker, but he manages to look at Finn and raise his eyebrows. “Hmm?”

“How’re you getting home?”

“I was going to call my dad when practice was over,” Kurt says. “I was dis—distracted, so I guess it might be awhile before he gets me.”

“Puck, you think your mom would drop Kurt off before we go to your place?” Finn asks Puck. 

"Yeah, good idea," Puck says with a nod. He gets dressed slowly, his mind admittedly elsewhere. "You can sit up front," he tells Kurt, "so you don't have to sit next to Julie." They’ve managed so far, but the last thing that needs to happen is Kurt sitting at the school by himself waiting for who-knows-how-long on his dad. 

“Julie?” Kurt asks. “Your sister?”

“Yeah, she’s six. You probably don’t want to sit by her,” Puck explains. 

“She’s cute, but she talks a lot,” Finn explains, pulling on his jeans. “She asks a lot of questions.” He pauses for a second and gives Kurt an appraising look. “It’s probably better if you don’t get asked a lot of questions today.”

“They’d probably get along well, actually,” Puck says, shutting his locker and picking up his backpack. “But another day. Where’s your house?” 

“West side of town,” Kurt says. “We’re not far from my dad’s tire shop.”

“Oh! Hey! Hummel like the tire shop!” Finn says. “We get our tires changed there.”

Puck grimaces a little, because that doesn’t sound like the best occupation for the dad of somebody like Kurt, but he doesn’t say anything about that. He’s ready to walk out of the locker room with the other two when he stops. “Wait, didn’t you tell me your mom picked that place ‘cause the guy that worked there was cute?”

“Yeah, she said he had a sexy bald head. Then she told me she was sorry she said ‘sexy bald head’ in front of me,” Finn says. “So, I guess that guy works for your dad, huh?”

“Not exactly,” Kurt says.

“Did he fire him or what?” Finn asks.

“No, my dad _is_ him,” Kurt says. 

Puck laughs and pulls the door open. “Tell your dad your friend Finn’s mom will drive you home tomorrow, too,” he says, still laughing. “Finn, don’t warn your mom.” 

“Awesome,” Finn says. “She should walk Kurt up to the door so he doesn’t get lost.”

“I don’t think I’m in danger of getting lost in my own driveway, thank you very much,” Kurt says. 

“No, I think you might be tomorrow,” Puck agrees with Finn. “Dehydration during practice.” 

“I’m not sure what scheme you’re concocting here, but can you please leave my dad out of it?”

“Nope,” Finn says happily. 

“There’s Ma,” Puck says, leading them towards the car. “Hey, Ma. We’re gonna give Kurt a ride, too,” he says through the open window, then pushes Kurt towards the door. 

“Hello,” his ma says to Kurt, sounding tired. “Kurt, Noah said?”

“Who?” Kurt asks. 

“She means Puck,” Finn explains. “Puck is Noah. Noah is Puck.”

“Oh. Yes, my name is Kurt,” Kurt says. “Thank you for the ride.”

“It’s not a problem.” Puck climbs in while his ma is talking, giving Julie a noogie, and then his ma turns to him. “I hope you two aren’t corrupting him. He seems polite.”

“Never, Ma,” Puck says, smirking. 

“He’s on the football team. He’s the kicker,” Finn says. “We got him on the team.”

Ma doesn’t seem to know what to say to that, so she turns to Kurt and asks him for directions to his house while Julie keeps up a running chatter on the things they’re passing and first grade events. When Ma stops in front of a plain white house, Puck decides that probably distresses Kurt, living in a plain house. 

“Remember, tell your dad about tomorrow,” Puck can’t resist saying as Kurt opens the door. 

“Fine,” Kurt sighs. “Thank you for the ride, Mrs. Puckerman.”

“You’re welcome,” Puck’s ma says, and she waits until Kurt is at his door before pulling away from the curb. “Am I even taking you home, Finn?” she asks. “Noah already said you were coming over this evening.” 

“My mom doesn’t need me back until bedtime,” Finn says. 

“That means no, just go to our house!” Julie says, and Puck grins at her. 

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Thanks, Ma.” Ma just sighs and shakes her head, but Puck can tell she’s fighting a little bit of a smile. After they eat, Puck and Finn make a big production of putting their backpacks on the table, and Puck even pulls out a textbook while they wait for Ma and Julie to leave. 

“We’ll be back between eight-thirty and nine,” Ma says after what feels like longer than necessary, and Puck nods and waves her out of the house, locking the door behind her and turning back to Finn. 

“Finally.” 

“You’d better kiss me really quick,” Finn says.

“Just quick?” Puck grabs Finn’s t-shirt and tugs, pressing their lips together and then deepening the kiss, his hands quickly going under Finn’s t-shirt. Finn puts his arms around Puck, hugging him, the sliding his hands down to Puck’s ass to squeeze it. Puck moves his mouth to Finn’s neck, making a new mark before pulling back. “You know what I’ve been thinking about?” 

“Is it the video?” Finn asks. “‘Cause, if so, me too.”

“Yeah.” Puck palms Finn’s dick. “Watching the video, and then…” he trails off. “We could find some lotion or something, and I could finger you. If you wanted.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks, his voice getting breathier. “Do _you_ want to?”

“Yeah.” Puck presses harder on Finn’s dick. “I think you do want me to.” 

“Yeah,” Finn says.

“Good.” Puck drags them over to the computer, making Finn sit down before he squeezes onto the chair too. “Find the video?”

Finn nods and starts typing in the address, bringing up the site. Puck shifts a little, watching Finn click on the video, and Puck half-listens to the narration, mostly watching the pictures themselves. About a third of the way into it, Puck’s brain starts substituting the actors with him and Finn, instead, and he puts his hand on Finn’s dick again. 

“You want to do that with me?” Puck says quietly. “Soon?”

“Yeah,” Finn says. “I want to do that.”

“Me too.” Puck tunes out the video almost completely when it gets to the lecture on condoms, and he kisses Finn again before standing up. “Let’s go.” 

Finn clicks the page closed and then stands. “Yeah,” he says. 

“We can lock the door just in case,” Puck says, going up the stairs and then ducking into the bathroom to look for lotion or something. He finally finds some baby lotion and goes into his bedroom, shutting the door behind them and propping the chair against it. “Think this’ll work?” he asks Finn, holding up the lotion before setting down so he can get undressed. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never tried this,” Finn says. 

“And I have?” Puck points out. He sits down on the bed, thinking. “C’mere.” 

Finn sits down next to Puck, lopsided grin on his face, and puts his hand high on Puck’s thigh. Puck slides his hands over Finn’s shoulders, then down his back, and pulls him into a sloppy kiss. 

“Just tell me if it sucks, okay?” 

“Okay,” Finn says. 

Puck grins a little, putting one hand on Finn’s dick, and slowly starts to stroke it while he bites Finn’s neck and runs his other hand over Finn’s back repeatedly, going lower with each stroke. Puck starts kissing Finn, slowly moving him over, and he slides his hand over Finn’s ass, stopping with his hand resting on it. 

“Fuck, this is hot.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. His voice has a little tremor in it. 

“Yeah. _You’re_ hot,” Puck says, pulling back slightly and moving Finn onto his hands and knees. “Shit, I didn’t realize…” he says, trailing off and staring at Finn’s ass. 

“What? What didn’t you realize?” 

“That I wanted this so much,” Puck admits, running both hands over Finn’s ass. “It’s really hot. Really sexy.” Puck reaches for the bottle of baby lotion, putting some on his fingers, and he moves just one finger around Finn’s hole. “You still good?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, his voice cracking a little. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Puck puts his other hand on Finn’s hip, and he pushes his finger forward just enough for the tip to slip into Finn’s hole. “You’re warm,” Puck says. “And really tight.”

“Yeah?” Finn’s voice sounds almost higher than usual. 

“Yeah, it’s good,” Puck says, slowly pushing his finger further in. “Really good.” He uses his other hand to help him get a better look at it, and he can feel himself getting harder. “Fuck, this is awesome.” 

“Feels kinda strange,” Finn says.

“I’ll try to find the thing the video was talking about,” Puck says, moving his finger more slowly than he wants to, if he’s being completely honest. “But you look so hot.” 

“Okay. Cool.” 

“Feel like I should suck your dick while I do this,” Puck admits. “I gotta figure out how we can do that.” 

“Yeah, that would be really good,” Finn says. 

“Maybe…” Puck trails off uncertainly, still slowly moving his finger, and he pulls it out carefully. “Get on your back, knees bent.” Finn nods and rolls over onto his back, eyebrows squished together in a look of concern. “Yeah, yeah,” Puck says, putting more lotion on his fingers, and he positions them at Finn’s hole again. “Two okay?” 

“I don’t know,” Finn says. “It just feels kinda weird.”

“Thought maybe I’d have more luck with two,” Puck explains, slowly pushing both fingers into Finn. “Fuck, you’re going to have to try it, you feel so awesome.” He moves his fingers just a bit more, then lowers his head and takes Finn’s dick in his mouth, stretching around as much of it as he can. Finn’s hands both moves to the sides of Puck’s head, gently guiding it.

“That’s so good, Puck,” Finn says softly. “It’s so good.”

Puck speeds up the motion of his mouth and head, and his fingers move a little more quickly, too, prodding at Finn and trying to find the right spot. Finn whimpers a few times, squirming underneath Puck. Puck tries to figure out what, exactly, he did to get that reaction, and he moves his free hand to Finn’s leg, pushing it up and back a little more. His eyes closed, Puck keeps moving his mouth on Finn and his fingers in Finn, wondering how long either of them can last. 

Finn whimpers and squirms again, one of his hands clutching at Puck’s mohawk. “Puck,” Finn whines. “Puck.”

Puck’s free hand squeezes Finn’s leg, and his fingers push into Finn with a little more force than he intends, his mouth and tongue still wrapped around Finn’s dick. Finn cries out, sort of an “Ah!”

Puck thinks it’s a good noise, so he does all of it again, opening his eyes and looking up at Finn. Finn cries out again, the cry fading into a whine as Finn squirms and twists under Puck, holding tightly to Puck’s head. 

“Oh. _Oh_. Puck!” Finn starts to come, and Puck leaves his fingers in place, sucking until Finn is still, and then he slowly removes them, kissing his way up Finn’s chest. 

“That was really hot,” Puck says, lying down on his side, head propped up. 

Finn blushes, flinging his arm over his face. “Yeah?”

“Uh, yeah,” Puck says. “Did _you_ like it?”

Finn nods with his arm still covering his face. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Puck grins. “I did mean it, you know.”

“Mean what?” Finn asks. He peeks out from under his arm to look at Puck.

“About you trying it. If you wanted to.” 

“Yeah? For real?”

“Yeah.” Puck nods. “I just thought, you know, you might want to. And that… that’d be good.” 

“You want me to try it now?” Finn asks.

“Sure. Yeah.” Puck nods. 

“Okay, cool,” Finn says. He starts to sit up, then immediately leans back down to press his lips to Puck, kissing so gently before he pulls away. “You want to try it on your knees or your back or…” He shrugs. “I can’t think of any other way.”

“Yeah, me either,” Puck admits. “You got a preference?”

Finn shrugs. “Whatever makes you comfortablest, I guess.”

“I’m good either way,” Puck insists. “What do _you_ want?”

“Which one did _you_ like better?”

Puck grins. “I liked ‘em both for different reasons. Rear-view was great, sucking your dick was great.” 

“Maybe on your back, so I can suck your dick, too,” Finn says, nodding his head like he’s made an important decision. “Yeah, like that, I think.”

“Okay.” Puck rolls onto his back, bending his knees up. “Sounds good.” 

Finn nods again, face serious as he picks up the bottle of baby lotion and squirts some onto his hand. “You’re really hard,” he says, looking at Puck’s dick. 

“Yeah.” Puck grins. “I _told_ you it was really hot.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. He takes a deep breath, exhales loudly. “Okay. Uh, if it’s _wrong_ or something, you should tell me. Your ass, your rules, like the video said, right?”

“Right. It’ll be good, though,” Puck reassures Finn. Finn nods again, studying Puck’s ass with his eyebrows squished together and his mouth twisted up. He touches his fingertip tentatively to Puck’s hole, sort of running his finger around it with the same look of concentration.

“That’s cool?” Finn asks.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” 

Finn pushes against Puck’s hole, not hard, until the tip of his finger slips inside. “Is that?”

Puck nods. “Yeah. Yeah. It is.” It’s odd, but it’s cool, too, and Puck puts his arms behind his head, lifting his head up. “You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s _really_ tight, and it’s hot,” Finn says. “And I think I can sorta feel your heartbeat.”

“Cool.” Puck grins. “You can put it in more, if you want to.”

“Okay,” Finn says, pushing his finger deeper inside Puck. “Am I supposed to move it around or anything? It sorta look like it on the video.”

Puck resists the urge to shift, trying to get used to the feeling. “Yeah, I think so?” he says. “It feels… full. The good kind of full, though, like after a big lunch.”

Finn laughs. “You’re so weird, dude.” He rotates his finger slightly. “Like that, you think?”

“Yeah, like that,” Puck agrees, nodding. 

Finn rotates his finger a little more, pushing it farther inside Puck at the same time, and he puts his other hand on Puck’s dick, stroking it slowly. “Is that better?” Finn asks.

“It’s good. Fuck.” Puck grins. “It is.” Puck’s not sure what the feeling is that the goal is, but he still feels pretty good, just with Finn’s hand around him and Finn’s finger inside him. 

“Here, I’ll try this, too,” Finn says. He leans forward and takes Puck’s dick into his mouth, moving his lips down the shaft as he pushes his finger in what feels like all the way, moving it around a little as he sucks on Puck’s dick. 

“Fuck,” Puck says, whimpering a little and moving his hands to Finn’s head. He lets his head fall back onto the bed, and he tugs on Finn’s hair a little. “Fuck, your mouth is so awesome.” Finn’s finger is moving in different directions, almost like some kind of checklist or something, but it does feel good-full and a few times, Puck thinks that Finn’s almost found the place the video mentioned. He doesn’t have a chance to say anything, though, and he tugs on Finn’s hair again. “Fuck, Finn, oh, fuck,” he gets out, his hips thrusting up as he comes. Finn just sucks on his dick, swallowing around it, until Puck relaxes again against the bed. 

“Uh. So,” Finn says, as he lets Puck’s dick slide out of his mouth and carefully slips his finger out. “That was okay?”

“Yeah, that was definitely okay,” Puck says, almost mumbling. 

“Awesome.” Finn flops down on the bed next to Puck. “We’re getting really good at all the sex stuff.”

“Yeah, we are.” Puck grins. “Too bad it’s not a class, we’d get an A.”

“An A plus,” Finn counters. “And we’d get to take the honors class.”

“Our moms could finally get those ‘honor roll’ bumper stickers,” Puck suggests, snorting a little. 

“Only they’d have little dudes having sex on them,” Finn says.

“Probably not official, then.” Puck grins and rolls closer to Finn, then makes a face. “Shit, we’re gonna have to shower.” 

Finn sniffs Puck and then tilts his head down to sniff himself. “Yeah, definitely.”

“We smell like sex, though,” Puck says. “You think if I leave my door closes, it’ll still smell like sex in here when I jerk off tonight?”

Finn’s face squishes up into his thinking expression. “Maybe. You could try it. Sucks you get to keep all the sex smell, though. I don’t get to have any.”

“Your mom going anywhere any night this week? I’ll come over,” Puck promises. 

“She’s got some kind of thing on Friday night. You’re sleeping over, right?”

“Duh.” Puck lies there quietly for a few moments, then rolls off the bed and grabs Finn. “Come on, we can waste some hot water.” 

“Awesome,” Finn says.

Puck turns the water up higher than he usually does, and makes sure the bathroom door is locked, too, even though his ma usually says not to lock it. He steps in and pulls Finn with him, leaning against him. “If your windows weren’t so high, I could sneak out and come over.” 

“I could get a rope ladder,” Finn says. “And you wouldn’t have to be on the bottom rung, even. You can climb all the way up.”

“Yeah, but I think your mom would notice a new rope ladder,” Puck points out, closing his eyes and tilting his head back under the spray. It’s a nice thought, though, and it would mean more time for sex, and Puck jerks his head back up suddenly, eyes flying open. “Shit.” 

“What? What’s wrong?” Finn asks.

“Just… fuck,” Puck says, a little weakly. “I really fucking am.” 

“Am what?” Finn runs his hand down Puck’s arm a few times. “Am what, Puck?”

Puck shakes his head twice before he manages to respond. “Gay.” 

“Oh,” Finn says. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“Yeah. I’m glad it’s you,” Puck admits. 

“Me, too,” Finn says. “Glad it’s you, I mean. Well, and glad it’s me, too, so you’re not alone.”

“Yeah. I didn’t expect it.” He’s not sure what he specifically means. He didn’t expect any of it, didn’t expect to be gay, didn’t expect Finn to be. “I feel like… like I’m supposed to feel something about it,” he says, ducking under the spray again. “Something bad. But I don’t.”

“I don’t think we should feel something bad about it,” Finn says. “‘Cause it’s you and me, dude. It’s always been you and me. Now it’s just you and me with sex.”

Puck grins. “Yeah. Which is an awesome addition.”

“Right?” Finn says. He grabs Puck by both arms and pulls him into a kiss, water streaming over both of them. 

“You think we have enough time?” Puck says, smirking a little at Finn and pressing his hand against Finn’s dick. “Turns out I like dick.”


End file.
